Death Skull let out a hysterical cackle, which echoed piercingly from the stone walls of his lair.
"Why so combative?" he said, emerg ing from the shadows. "At the end of the day, we're not so different, you and I."
"What are you talking about?" Ultra Man demanded.
"We are both strangers to this world," Death Skull intoned. "Maligned, misunderstood. We make our own paths, live by our own rules, refuse to compromise for anyone. Yes, in many ways, we are the same."
Ultra Man squinted at him. "I don't know, man," he said. "That's a pretty big stretch. Like, I know we both wear capes, or whatever. But I stand for good, and you stand for evil. That's about as different as it gets."
"Hmm," Death Skull murmured. "Hmm."
"I told you it was pointless," Death Skull said to his wife, Jackie. "It's impossible to make friends after forty."
"I do it all the time," Jackie said.
"It's different for guys!" Death Skull shricked.
"I want more specifics," Jackie pressed. "What did Ultra Man say when you asked him if he wanted to be friends with you?"
Death Skull averted his black eyes.
"Let me guess," Jackie said. "You didn't do it like we practiced."
"I'm not going to just walk up to him and say, 'Please be my friend,"he scoffed. "I mean, what is this, kindergarten?"
He let out a cackle, but the echo wasn't great, because their apartment had carpeting.
"O.K., so Ultra Man isn't a good fit," Jackie said. "That doesn't mean you have to give up on friendship. Why don't you try joining a group for villains, like the Terrible Ten or the Harvard Club?"
"The dues are obscene!" Death Skull thundered. "I don't even play squash!"
"Look," Jackie said. "If you want to stop being lonely and don't try to pretend you're not, because you already admitted it when you were drunk-then you've got to be more open-minded." She headed for the kitchen.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة May 13, 2024 من The New Yorker.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة May 13, 2024 من The New Yorker.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
BADDIE ISSUES
\"Wicked\" and \"Gladiator II.\"
LET'S MAKE A DEAL
\"Death Becomes Her\" and \"Burnout Paradise.\"
ANTI HEROES
\"The Franchise,\" on HBO.
FELLOW-TRAVELLERS
The surprisingly sunny origins of the Frankfurt School.
NOW YOU SEE ME
John Singer Sargent's strange, slippery portraits of an art dealer's family.
PARIS FRIEND - SHUANG XUETAO
Xiaoguo had a terror of thirst, so he kept a glass of water on the table beside his hospital bed. As soon as it was empty, he asked me to refill it. I wanted to warn him that this was unhealthy - guzzling water all night long puts pressure on the kidneys, and pissing that much couldn't be good for his injury. He was tall, though, so I decided his insides could probably cope.
WILD SIDE
Is Lake Tahoe's bear boom getting out of hand?
GETTING A GRIP
Robots learn to use their hands.
WITHHOLDING SEX FROM MY WIFE
In the wake of [the] election, progressive women, who are outraged over Donald Trump's victory at the ballot box, have taken to social media with public, vengeful vows of chastity. - The Free Press.
DEADLINE EXTENSION
Old age, reborn.